


But You Just Wanted More

by yansurnummu



Series: Touch of the Void [7]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Early City Days, Fantasizing, First Meetings, Horny at First Sight, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 15:38:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19276291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yansurnummu/pseuds/yansurnummu
Summary: James had him wrapped around his finger from the very beginning.





	But You Just Wanted More

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to @Alconis for not only letting me borrow Charlie, but also being my co-pilot for this. Love u 💕

Charlie watched his back.

It started innocently enough. He watched the man through the scope of his rifle as he picked through a wreckage. He had a sparrow parked nearby - pieces of salvage haphazardly strapped to the sides. 

Charlie watched a dreg take interest in the sparrow, as the man worked on wrenching free some ungiving machinery. 

Charlie didn't let the bug get close enough. The scavenger’s head spun towards the pop-hiss of ether released from the dreg. 

He otherwise didn't seem too bothered by it, but scanned the buildings for the source of the shot. Charlie wasn't sure if he'd been spotted or not, but the scavenger waved, gesturing like he wanted him to come down. So he did.

 

He was tall, Charlie noticed first, maybe even the same height as himself. Except he was a little lanky, long legs and broad shoulders, unlike Charlie's muscular frame.

And he was  _ pretty, _ Charlie noticed second. Days-old stubble framed an angular face, with big brown eyes and a prominent nose. His hair was a mess of loose black curls that cut off at his neck, a mess that Charlie's fingers itched to ruffle.

He wore a friendly grin as Charlie approached, creases at the corners of his eyes, and Charlie couldn't help but smile himself, hidden though his face was.

“Cheers, mate,” the man said as Charlie approached, catching him off-guard with his thick Old English cadence. “The locals don't usually gimme a hard time, but lately seems like summin’s upset ‘em.”

“No clue what that could be,” Charlie replied with a sigh, trying his damndest not to recount the battle some months ago. The stranger only chuckled. 

“Anyhow, think you could gimme a hand with this?” he tapped his boot against the exposed machinery of the crashed ship he'd been trying to pull apart earlier. “Shouldn't be too tough against a big, strong man like yourself.” he flashed him that grin again, this time with a quirk of a dark eyebrow.

Charlie flushed, momentarily grateful for his helmet covering his face. “Aw, I don't know much about mechanics…”

“Oh, don't worry, this part’s only for scrap - I just need it freed,” he said quickly, placing his hands on his hips. "It's, uh, titanium. Stuff at this quality can fetch a decent price to the right folks."

"Will I get a cut?" Charlie chuckled - partially joking - inspecting the wreckage before he grabbed at the metal panel. With some effort, he pulled it free, and the stranger grinned.

"I'll make it worth your while," he winked, then nodded in the direction of his sparrow before walking off, leaving Charlie shocked and flustered. He shook himself out of it, following him with the heavy panel tucked under his arm.

As Charlie got a closer look at his sparrow, he realized how heavily modified it was.  _ Kitbashed _ would probably be a better word. The frame was much bulkier than any sparrows he'd seen around the City, presumably for hauling around whatever junk the scavenger picked up. It seemed like a patchwork of different parts, with a hefty engine that looked more like that of a Fallen pike, and what he thought looked like bits of an old golden age motorbike.

“Did… you build this?” Charlie asked, a little awestruck.

“Huh?” the scavenger looked up from securing the scrap. “Oh, well, some of it, yeah. Replaced a lot of parts over the years, y’know.” he gave a nervous smile, almost as if he was shy about it.

“That's fuckin’ brilliant.” he said as he admired the man's work. Charlie could do a little tuning in an emergency, sure, but couldn't imagine what it would take to  _ build _ a whole sparrow. 

“I - thank you,” he bit his lower lip as he smiled, and Charlie swallowed. He watched the man climb onto the sparrow and flick a few switches before pausing. "Uh - James - tha's my name," he stumbled, holding out his hand. 

"Charlie," he said quickly, eyes wide as he shook the scavenger’s hand. His fingers were wiry, rough, and Charlie had to remind himself to let go.

"Charlie. That's lovely," he smiled, "Y'know Haytham's House? Outside where they're buildin' that wall?" he asked over the hum of the vehicle, a little louder than what Charlie was used to.

"Yeah, bit of a dump of a pub?" he replied. James laughed, the sound low and sweet.

"That's the one. Me n' my mates usually end up there," he said as he tapped at the display on the sparrow. "How 'bout I buy you a drink sometime, yeah?" he leaned back against the piled junk on the back of the vehicle as he grinned at Charlie - and the titan admitted to himself that he wanted to lick along his exposed throat, bite the sharp line of his scruffy jaw. He realized he'd been asked a question, again grateful for his face being covered as he shook the thought from his mind.

"I… yeah. Yeah, alright," he managed, and James grinned.

"Brilliant!" he pulled his goggles up from around his neck, fixing them over his eyes. "I'll see you 'round, Charles." 

He took off soon after, leaving Charlie standing at the side of the road, stunned.

 

When he went over to Haytham's later that week, his intentions weren't quite as innocent.

Even less so when he found James at the bar, in something more casual; tight-fitting jeans showing off slim hips and powerful legs, leather jacket and an old button-down. He could only stand there and stare for a moment, awestruck by how this man could be even  _ more _ gorgeous than before.

Charlie took a deep breath, telling himself  _ you can do this, you can do this,  _ over and over as he approached the scavenger.

"Fancy meetin' you here," Charlie slid into the barstool next to him. James' attention turned to him, visibly surprised. Charlie swallowed as he was looked up and down, before a smile cracked across the scavenger’s face.

"Charles?" he asked, and Charlie only nodded. "Sorry, didn't recognize you withou' that helmet. You're… uh," Charlie shifted where he stood.

"Y'told me he was Irish, but  _ wow," _ an exo woman on James' opposite side leaned over to inspect him and Charlie flushed in embarrassment. 

"That's Reese - she likes to tell jokes," James laughed. "Anyway, I owe you a drink, don't I?" he gave Charlie that gorgeous smile again, and he forgot his previous worries.

"Think I'll have to take you up on that," he smiled sheepishly, and James waved down the bartender.

 

Charlie drank a little more than he usually might, an attempt to calm his nerves and fluttering heart. Reese certainly  _ did _ tell a lot of jokes, he found out. He thought she reminded him of another silver-tongued exo he knew, but the thought was pushed aside by the way James stole his attention. All the scavenger had to do was look his way, and Charlie was hooked.

 

"Charles, lem… lemme walk you home," 

Charlie vaguely registered James' arm around his waist, the touch making him giddy. He laughed, the idea of James in his flat going through his mind briefly.

"If 'at means I get to take you home wi' me, by all means," he slurred. James snorted when he laughed, leaning against Charlie. He stank of whiskey, and all Charlie wanted to do was drink him up.

"All you hadta do was ask, luv." 

The two of them stumbled onto the street outside, mostly upright, but still a little unsteady. James was humming a tune that Charlie found vaguely familiar, and like a sailor to a siren, Charlie trailed beside him, completely enthralled. 

He began to fall behind a bit, unbeknownst to James - and his eyes became glued to his backside, hypnotised by the sway of his hips as he walked - until he stumbled, and James turned to catch him. He was laughing, so close Charlie could taste the whiskey on his breath. It would be so easy to close the gap, to have soft lips on his own, to have those hands on his waist  _ mean something  _ other than only to steady him as they walked.

 

Charlie woke to sunlight, as he usually did. What he didn't usually wake to was the pounding in his head, the nauseous feeling, and the weight over his body.

The weight that smelled of pine and tobacco, and breathed against his collarbone in short puffs.

Charlie was frozen in place. James was draped over him on his couch, his arms around Charlie's neck and dark curls tucked under his chin. His hands were at the small of James' back, the scavenger’s shirt riding up  _ much farther _ than Charlie was comfortable with at that moment. 

James shifted in his sleep, his hip pressing into Charlie's groin. Charlie gasped, arousal already growing from having James so close to him, and the soft, warm skin under his hands.

He cursed how his cock twitched when he realized James had discarded his jeans on the floor, along with Charlie's shirt. The leather of the scavenger’s jacket was bunched up behind Charlie's head, like an attempt to remove it was made before they both fell down.

Charlie couldn't help but wonder… 

No, he hadn't been  _ that _ drunk. He could still remember the night before, as blurry as it was.

But the thought of kissing James still crossed his mind. He wondered what it would be like to have those soft, full lips against his own, James' beard scratching against his own stubble. He thought of how  _ easy _ it would be to slip his hands into his pants from their current position, grab at his plush ass and grind against him.

James shifted again and Charlie's breath was ragged when he sighed. Yeah, he was rock hard now.

He thought of how he could sneak out from under the scavenger without waking him, but his nerves told him he dare not move. And his heart told him to savour this; he'd probably never have James pressed against him like this again.

Briefly, Charlie wondered if James  _ always _ moved this much in his sleep, or if the fates were just out to punish him today. _ Definitely punishment,  _ he thought when he realized that he could feel James' cock, hard and thick and perfect, pressing into his thigh.

Charlie's blood ran cold when James hummed, raising his head enough to look at him. His curls were messy, falling into his sleepy, half-lidded eyes, his lips parted as he gazed at Charlie. Charlie swallowed hard.

"Hey. I gotta, um - toilet," he stammered, moving his hands to James' (clothed, thankfully) shoulders.

James seemed a little confused, but rolled off him onto the couch with a grunt when Charlie got up. He tried not to stare as the scavenger laid sprawled out on his back, the outline of his erection clearly visible behind his underwear.

He left the room quickly. The bathroom door closed with a soft click, and Charlie pressed his forehead to the wood, his skin flushed bright red and burning with embarrassment. He put his left hand above his head to brace himself, and he closed his eyes and let his ragged breath drip from his mouth. The stale air in the small room was humid with the sticky smell of James, alcohol, and heat that clung to his own skin, and as Charlie panted behind the wood, shame dripped from his pores like sweat.

All he could see behind his eyelids was skin that was soft and warm from sleep. If there was an afterlife, Charlie hoped his own personal hell was an eternity of James’ eyes in an endless loop, eyelashes obscenely long against his cheeks as they opened, with a wrecked and naked expression of sex. 

Charlie palmed his cock, which was so hard it was painful. He wanted to believe so,  _ so _ badly that the look of desire had been for him. As his wrist jerked his hand over his dick, the motion was less for pleasure and more for the overwhelming  _ need _ of it, until he bit his lip and the need spilled out of him and over his hand.


End file.
